


baby steps

by SlimeQueen



Series: One by One [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Making Out, Relationship Discussions, a teeny bit spicy, literally just them making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 02:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/pseuds/SlimeQueen
Summary: There are several things Donghyuck could say Jeno and Jaemin have wrong about his relationship with Mark, but the thing they're most incorrect about is this- how far they've gone together.





	baby steps

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello i just wanted to let everyone know they talk about doing the nasty at some point but the whole thing is completely sfw, it's just a discussion bc yknow, theyre moving on in their relationship and whatnot  
> 

Mark looks good driving.

Donghyuck doesn’t know what it is about the way Mark wraps his fingers around the wheel with one hand, slides the other over Donghyuck’s thigh right above his knee and rests his palm there that gets his heart racing.

It’s a casual gesture- it’s just Mark’s warm hand on his knee, it really shouldn’t be a big deal at all, but somehow, when Mark’s got his attention on the road and his fingers still unconsciously find Donghyuck, it’s a bigger deal in his mind than it needs to be.

Donghyuck shifts a little, sliding forward in his seat so Mark’s hand goes further up his thigh, and Mark tosses him a quick glance. He shrugs back, blinking slow and deliberate.

Mark’s mouth twists into a barely-there smile, and his thumb traces a little circle into the warm skin of Donghyuck’s outer thigh. Donghyuck ducks his face down to conceal a smile of his own.

From the back seat, Jisung says, “You guys are gross.”

“You’re gross,” Donghyuck says without missing a beat, twisting a little in his seat to glare at the younger boy.

“Fine,” Jisung says, crossing his arms across his chest, “I’ll walk home next time.”

Mark sighs, pulling his hand away from Donghyuck’s leg, and Donghyuck resists the urge to whine and put it back. “All of you can walk next time,” he deadpans.

“Oh please, great and benevolent driving god,” Jaemin says without looking up from his phone, “Take pity on us humble pedestrians and bless us with your air-conditioned powers.”

Mark snorts, pulling up into Jisung’s driveway. “Get out.”

Jisung grabs his bag from between his legs and hesitates, his hand on the door handle. “You didn’t mean what you said about making me walk, did you?”

“You really think Mark hyung has anything better to do than drive us around?” Jeno chimes in.

“Point taken.”

Mark grumbles something good naturedly about bratty children and waits until Jisung climbs the steps to his doorstep to pull away down the street.

“We’re not _that_ gross, are we?” Mark asks after a second, fingers tapping absently at the steering wheel.

Donghyuck opens his mouth to respond, but Jeno beats him to it- “You’re joking, right?”

“We’re-“

“Hyuck, you tried sucking Mark’s fingers in the middle of the lunch room last week. Please. Give it a rest.”

Donghyuck’s ears burn as he recalls that particular incident. It’s not his fault Mark had sauce all over his hands.

Mark makes a tiny annoyed noise in his throat as someone cuts him off, braking particularly hard, and Donghyuck slams forward against the seatbelt over his chest with a gasp of surprise, not ready for the jerky movement. Immediately, Mark’s got a hand thrown over his waist as if to shield him.

Donghyuck looks down at the hand splayed out across his stomach, then up at Mark with wide incredulous eyes. Mark’s eyes widen as well when he realizes what he’s done and he retracts his hand quickly.

Donghyuck’s cheeks burn, and in the backseat, he sees Jeno and Jaemin exchange a knowing glance.

“Sorry,” Mark says roughly, hands gripping the wheel so tight that the tendons on the back of his palm stick out starkly against the pale skin.

Donghyuck swallows hard, his throat clicking dryly, and he says, “Don’t worry about it.”

Mark pulls into Jeno’s driveway then, and Jaemin follows him out, leaving Mark and Donghyuck in the car alone.

Mark takes a deep breath. “Sorry,” he repeats, running a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to focus sometimes when everyone’s shouting.”

Donghyuck bites his lip, takes Mark’s hand. “You put your hand out to protect me,” he murmurs, “Instinctually.”

Mark’s got on a ring that had probably been his brother’s at some point. Donghyuck twists it around gently, pulling it over one of the length of his slender finger and off, then slides it back into place. He laces their fingers together.

“Maybe,” Mark says, his mouth twitching. “It wasn’t instinctual, though. I knew what I was doing.”

Donghyuck’s heart had began racing as soon as Mark had hit the brakes, and it doesn’t get a chance to calm. Mark reaches out, takes his chin in his thin fingers, and smiles, a crooked, lazy curl of the lips that makes heat shoot through Donghyuck’s stomach. Donghyuck leans forward, meets Mark’s mouth over the gear shift, kisses him long and slow.

He pulls back, licks his lips, and says, “I think I want another lesson.”

-

There are several things Donghyuck could say Jeno and Jaemin are wrong about, but the thing they are most incorrect about is this- how far Mark and Donghyuck have gone.

It’s easy to assume when they spend so much time together, when they’re already painfully intimate, when Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to lick sauce off Mark’s fingers, or Mark to sleep over in his bed. But the truth is, they haven’t done anything particularly scandalous.

Donghyuck had sat in Mark’s lap once, during their first so called “lesson,” and even that is enough to send his brain and heart into overdrive.

So, it’s a little understandable why his heart’s absolutely thunderous in his chest by the time they pull up to Mark’s house. Mark lets them in, dumps all his books and his bag in the kitchen, and calls, “Do you want something to drink?”

Donghyuck’s standing in the entrance hall, head in the clouds. He can’t stop thinking about the heat of Mark’s mouth on his own, the warm press of his palms against the bare skin of his thigh, his stomach, then up to his cheek to angle their mouths together deeper. He’s flushed even thinking about it.

“Hyuck,” Mark interrupts, “Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck blinks, then shakes his head mutely. “I’m fine,” he forces out.

Mark snorts. “Drink some water, baby. You’re all red, and I’m pretty sure it’s not the heat.”

Donghyuck presses a self-conscious hand to his cheek, wincing when his palm meets burning skin. “How are you not as flustered as I am?” he complains, following Mark to the kitchen and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

“I am,” Mark says softly, taking the water from him when he’s done, tipping it back and finishing it off. He crushes the empty bottle in his hand and leaves it with the rest of the recyclables, then shrugs a little. “I guess it doesn’t show on me.”

“It’s not fair,” Donghyuck pouts, and lets Mark press him back against the kitchen table, the edge of it pressing in right above the small of his back. Mark takes his wrist, kissing his knuckles before pulling his hand to his chest.

“Look how nervous you make me,” Mark whispers, eyes shining with sincerity. Under Donghyuck’s palm, Mark’s shirt is thin enough that he can feel the warmth of Mark’s skin, and under all that, the frantic beat of his heart.

“ _Oh_ ,” Donghyuck sighs softly, eyes fluttering shut. Mark kisses him again, and this time his tongue is cold from the water, the sensation making Donghyuck’s breath hitch. “S’cold,” he mumbles, and pulls away a tiny bit.

Mark grins, using the hand he has resting on Donghyuck’s shoulder to pull his jaw up, baring his neck. “And if I do this?” he wonders, and before Donghyuck can tell him not to, he’s licking a long stripe up the side of Donghyuck’s neck, velvety cool tongue leaving a wet, cold path up the column of his throat.

Mark probably means for Donghyuck to be annoyed, to push him away and yell at him for being gross, but Donghyuck’s nerves are burning in sensation, and the action makes an embarrassingly high whimper leave his throat, his fingers tightening in Mark’s shirt.

His heart’s racing so fast, he’s sure it’s going to beat right out of his chest, and when Mark groans, “you _liked_ that?” he nods tightly, not trusting his voice.

“Okay,” Mark says, taking a deep breath. Donghyuck feels his chest expand with his exhale, then contract again. “Maybe we should cool down a little.”

Finally, he pries Donghyuck’s fingers off his shirt and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I’m gonna go change, why don’t you go find something for us to watch?”

Mark disappears upstairs, and Donghyuck takes several deep breaths himself, trying to calm down. Mark Lee is seriously not good for his weak heart.

When his breathing’s back to as normal as it can get with Mark changing clothes upstairs, he relocates to the couch. His neck’s still wet from Mark’s mouth, and he wipes at it with his sleeve absently.

He’s just putting on some crime investigation show neither of them are very invested in when Mark slips back into the room, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I brought you sweats,” he says, throwing them at Donghyuck.

“My hero,” Donghyuck says, “Sent from the gods above to bring me comfort and…” he checks the tag quickly, “90% cotton.”

“Shut up,” Mark settles into the couch, watches him wriggle out of his shirt to slide Mark’s over his head. “You can’t go to the bathroom? It’s literally right there.”

“Are you bothered by my immense hotness?” Donghyuck asks, “Sorry my body’s so erotic that you can’t keep it in your pants.” With a teasing smile, Donghyuck pops open the button of his jeans and pulls them down.

Mark’s still pointedly looking at the gruesome murder on the television instead of Donghyuck’s legs, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes, shoving his shoulder gently. “Stop being weird, hyung.”

Mark mumbles something about not being weird, but Donghyuck pushes him again, this time back against the couch. He swallows down the nerves, crawling into Mark’s lap again. Mark has to tilt his head up to look at him, and Donghyuck pushes his glasses up the ridge of his nose. “Stop being weird,” he says again, winding his arms around Mark’s shoulders.

 “You like it,” Mark says, their lips brushing together with every word. “Don’t act like you don’t.”

“Fine, then say something weird.” Donghyuck murmurs.

“Your mouth tastes like strawberries because of your lip balm,” Mark replies immediately. “And I like it.” As if to emphasize his point, his tongue flicks out, drags over the swell of his lower lip, and Donghyuck chokes over an exhale.

Their foreheads are pressed together, and Mark shifts a little, joins their mouths again. He pulls Donghyuck’s bottom lip between his own, sucks on it until it’s tender and swollen, then pulls away again. “You’re gross,” Donghyuck breathes, “The grossest, the most disgusting,” and then Mark’s kissing him again, hands around his hips, pulling him closer, their mouths meeting at a frantic, heated pace, sucking on his tongue, and Donghyuck’s whole body feels like an exposed wire, electric and ready to burst.

“But?” Mark prompts, his voice wrecked, breaking over the word.

Donghyuck bites Mark’s lip hard, grinning in triumph when Mark hisses, shuddering under him. He leans in, licks the shell of Mark’s ear, tongue catching over the cold metal earring, and whispers, “But I like it.”

Mark’s next exhale is as shaky as his hands around Donghyuck’s waist, and he says weakly, “We were supposed to cool down.”

Right. Donghyuck masks his disappointment with a shrug, sliding off Mark’s lap and onto the couch. “I’m fine,” he lies. In fact, he’s very much not fine, every inch of him tingling, not enough air in his lungs.

“So…am I,” Mark says slowly, fixing his crooked glasses, but his cheeks are flushed, lips glossy and swollen.

Donghyuck has to force himself to keep his hands off him. He opts for sitting on them, tucking them under his thighs. “So,” he says conversationally, hoping Mark doesn’t catch the tremble in his voice.

“So.”

“Maybe we should just. Just watch the crime show.” Donghyuck tries, fingers scraping the leather of the couch.

“Maybe,” Mark says, but then Donghyuck’s being pushed back against the cushions, Mark sitting on his thighs, their lips pressing together again. “Or we could just, like, not.”

Mark kisses his swollen, tender lips again, this time deeper, softer, stroking his hair off his forehead. When he pulls away, Donghyuck squeezes his eyes shut, turning his face to the side, cheek pressing against the cool leather couch.

“You know I trust you, right?” Donghyuck says softly. He feels oddly vulnerable saying the words out loud. “More than anything.”

“Yeah?” Mark says, voice tilting up in confusion.

“But,” Donghyuck swallows hard. “But I’m-“

Mark cuts him off before he can finish. “Wait, wait a second. Are you being weird and nervous because you think I want _that_?”

Mark’s off him in a second, holding a hand out for him to take. Donghyuck takes it, lets the older boy haul him up. When they’re both sitting on the couch facing each other, Donghyuck shrugs, says, “Yes? No? I don’t know, the point isn’t that- it’s that I trust you with it, but I’m just not…you know, ready or anything.”

Mark’s face softens. “You’re kind of making no sense, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck wills his heart to calm its rapid pace. “I trust you enough to sleep with you, I’m just not ready for it yet.”

“Dude,” Mark says, scrubbing a hand over his face, “Did you really think I brought you home because I want sex? On the Tuesday afternoon without any prior discussion? Seriously?”

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck whines, heat creeping up his face. “I wasn’t really thinking at all.”

Mark takes his hand, twining their fingers together. “Babe,” he says, and Donghyuck closes his eyes slowly. “I’m glad you trust me, but I think we should just take it one step at a time. If we’re both this nervous, obviously neither of us are ready for it.”

“Obviously,” Donghyuck mumbles. “Sorry,” he says after a beat, “I guess I really wasn’t thinking.”

Mark smiles, and some of the tension leaves Donghyuck’s shoulders. Donghyuck leans forward, wraps his arms around Mark and hugs him tightly, feels the older boy drop a kiss onto his forehead.

Donghyuck sighs quietly. “Jisung was right,” he says sadly. “We are gross.”

Into his hair, Mark bursts out laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> a game called "how spicy can i write markhyuck without it actually being spicy"  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/_johnten) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/slimequeen)


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